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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434932">To the Strongest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndDragons/pseuds/ChocolateAndDragons'>ChocolateAndDragons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I'll add them with the chapters, I'm Bad At Tagging, Iwaizumi Hajime Is So Done, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oikawa is simultaneously amazing and absolute trash, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, it's all chill until they go into battle and things go wrong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:20:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndDragons/pseuds/ChocolateAndDragons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Conquest. Power. Honor.</p><p>Victory.</p><p>Oikawa has the universe set in his sights; the phantom touch of the world dancing across his fingertips is nearly palpable. Ruthless, calculating, unyielding, each day is only an effort to make his dreams reality. Macedon, Greece, Persia, India, everything- one by one, he rules it all.</p><p>Iwaizumi can’t help but to be enraptured in Oikawa’s campaign for glory- and perhaps Oikawa himself, as well. For every challenge Oikawa conquers, each step he takes, Iwaizumi is there at his side, courageous and unwavering.</p><p>Hajime and Tooru, together obstinate; dauntless.</p><p> </p><p>Haikyuu!! but an AU set from 344-323 BCE, centered around Oikawa as Alexander the Great and Iwaizumi as Hephaestion. (Don’t worry, plenty of other characters are there.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Halcyon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Halcyon (adj.) - a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy or peaceful.</p>
<p>Oikawa's extravagance both captures and interrupts Iwaizumi's happiness- only for the first time in an endless cycle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>344 BCE- Pella, Macedonia</b>
</p>
<p>Iwaizumi is nearly thirteen when he first glimpses Oikawa.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At first, it seems he fits flawlessly into the royal painting, a picture perfect prince- maroon cloak resting regally upon his shoulders, wind-tousled hair framing his dazzling, jeweled circlet. Oikawa <em> glows </em>, sun kissed skin and sparkling bronze eyes, and Iwaizumi can almost believe the legends the schoolboys spin, that godly ichor surges through his veins. Then he opens his mouth, voice tinkling like bells yet smooth as honey, to issue some of the shittiest complaints Iwaizumi has heard in his life. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re absolutely useless,” he grumbles to his mother, Queen Olympias, from his seat in the stands. “How do such spineless oafs find positions so close to the king? If it were me, I’d let Bucephalus trample all those who failed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Needless to say, Iwaizumi fully retracts his first impression. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>King Phillip II pays his son’s haughty remarks no heed, his back turned as he’s deep in negotiations with another man- Philonicus the Thessalian, if Iwaizumi recalls correctly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Iwaizumi watches for far too long, lingering at the arena’s entrance.<em> I’m a nobleman, not a peasant </em>, he reminds himself, but he remains unmoving, taking in the scene. These are his last days in Pella for the next three years, at the least, before he is sent off to study with Aristotle in Mieza. He’d been hoping to spend these fleeting summer days soaking in the last of the bustling capital city, but part of him finds it peaceful; entertaining to simply stay, to observe the royals’ struggle of daily life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> All over a horse, too, </em> he thinks with mild amusement. <em> What a waste of time. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The purchase of interest: a great stallion, dark as midnight, unruly and furious. He’s stunning, his coat glistening in the sun- a fantasy almost, the creature schoolboys dream about in their visions of war and honor. Larger than life, with a singular, white star marking his forehead, Iwaizumi has never seen a horse so grand- or so viscous. Phillip’s attendants curse his name- Bucephalus- as they’re mercilessly knocked them from his back. Their indignant voices, humiliated as they each land awkwardly on the harsh ground, fill the arena with frustration and anger. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>To put it frankly, Iwaizumi finds this hilarious. (And no, that absolutely does not make him as bad as Oikawa. As far as he’s concerned, Oikawa is unsurpassable in standards of trash.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And yet, he catches himself glancing increasingly at the prince, leaning in to catch the boy’s jeering voice on the wind. Ultimately, it has him seeing red, listening to Oikawa insult every attendant and snicker obnoxiously at their hardships- Numerously, Iwaizumi finds himself walking away in disgust, only to double back as another man steps up to the challenge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But by midday, everyone is dulled in the cruel glower of the sun- and under the weight of their prince’s commentary. Exhausted, they all retreat, almost beg for defeat. Even Phillip seems ages older, sighing as he calls for the horse returned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t buy him, not for your price, if no one can ride him,” he says at last, his booming voice echoing towards Iwaizumi. Philonicus accepts Bucephalus’ reins back wearily, smiling sadly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I supposed not. Ah, well, I’ll have to find another bargainer.” He leads the horse away, and everyone numbly watches him walk off, Iwaizumi ducking out of sight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pathetic,” Oikawa scoffs, crossing his arms and scowling at the sun. Iwaizumi notes that he seems to be the only one around to retain any life, without the slumping shoulders and dim eyes that plague the adults. “It’s a shame. Such an excellent horse, lost because of the lack of competency to manage him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phillip shoots his son a scathing look over his shoulder. “Watch yourself, Tooru.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why should I?” Oikawa stands abruptly instead, sauntering over and raising his chin to meet his father’s gaze defiantly. Iwaizumi’s mouth falls open- to speak that way to the king, even if he’s your own father… Iwaizumi has never witnessed a king order an exile- or an execution- but he supposes it might be fairly interesting. Phillip’s jaw hardens, his patience already tested by the day’s failure; he glares down at his son.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“These men are far older and far more experienced, and you’re suggesting you can do far better than them?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” Oikawa smiles, and even from a distance, Iwaizumi can tell there is a certain challenge in his gaze that is far too chilling to pass as childlike innocence. “Exactly. That is <em> exactly </em>what I’m suggesting.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And if you can not?” Phillip looks him up and down in scrutiny. He must’ve muttered some disapproval, because Oikawa’s smile quickly makes way for aggravation, a seething glare and trembling fists. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll pay for the whole horse myself,” Oikawa declares.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phillip bursts into hearty laughter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.” He claps Oikawa’s shoulder. “How bold. I hope you have the money ready, son.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oikawa opens his mouth to argue, but Phillip turns to Philonicus’ shrinking figure and calls for his return. For all the dreariness moments earlier, the men are in full swing now, laughing and elbowing each other, their taunts growing louder and louder. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Karma </em> . <em> He deserves it. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Philonicus offers Bucephalus’ reins to Oikawa, smirking. “Enjoy, young prince.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oikawa, surprisingly enough, bites his tongue, snatching the reins away and leading the stallion away with a half-lidded smile and relaxed strut- that unfaltering grace of his. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Look at me </em> , it demands. <em> Don’t look away, because I’ve already won. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bravado is infuriating. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> He’s humiliating himself, </em> Iwaizumi thinks, but he perks up eagerly. <em> Is this really the crown prince of Macedonia? What a dumbass.  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Iwaizumi scrambles into the stadium for a better view, positioning himself between the pillars enveloping the arena and the back row to avoid attention, his eyes scarcely leaving Oikawa. He figures the idiot is stalling for time, having talked himself into a corner. He even turns Bucephalus about, so that the horse’s back is to the sun. Bucephalus stirs a little, restless, and Oikawa allows him forward, smiling brightly as he brushes a soothing hand across the horse’s mane. Iwaizumi waits, watching for that inevitable arrogance to return to his eyes, but all he sees is a delighted glimmer, unmistakable even from a distance. An arm looped precariously around a pillar, he teeters over a seat anxiously, wondering when Oikawa will make the fatal mistake. The older men may have been swift enough to evade the horse’s thundering hooves, but Oikawa is a child. The idea of him splayed out on the ground, bones shattered… Iwaizumi grimaces, resisting the urge to call out. He repositions himself in his hiding spot and-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-he can’t believe he misses it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In Oikawa’s place is simply his fine, silk cloak, fluttering to the ground; the prince is upon the stallion, seated effortlessly. Iwaizumi can see it in his mind’s eye, that perfect, nimble leap, almost floating onto the saddle. Instead of bucking him off, Bucephalus barely startles, seemingly preoccupied, so Oikawa gently curbs the horse, little by little. Unlike the attendants’ unrestrained attempts, he neither strikes the stallion nor spurs it onward. Iwaizumi lets loose an understanding little “oh” despite himself. There is no desperate clinging, no clawing at the reins and snarling as he frantically bends the horse to his will. Oikawa sits straight-backed and certain<em> , </em> as if Bucephalus was his to begin with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Iwaizumi scowls, slamming his knuckles against the stone of the pillars (and flinching in pain.) It’s all he has to keep from shouting out, to bite down the all consuming rage at how Oikawa seems to act like everything he touches is his, as if the sun shines only to light his path. <em> Arrogant brat. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Oikawa laughs to himself giddily, leans down to speak into Bucephalus’ ear, and Iwaizumi is, again, craning his neck for a better view.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s go!” Oikawa commands abruptly, bursting up and urging Bucephalus into a gallop. Iwaizumi jerks, stumbling forward. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Asshole,” he mutters. Clinging carelessly to the pillar, one foot planted for balance, he strains for the golden scene- Oikawa riding masterfully, swaying to the rise and fall of the giant stallion’s gait easily. Basked in sunlight, the two make quite the pair, glorious and free, feasting on the sweetness of victory.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oikawa directs Bucephalus back to the group of men, all broken into incredulous cries and cheers. He dismounts swiftly, suddenly aloof and smug, ignoring them all in favor of a cool arrogance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you hadn’t noticed in all the hours you had been watching him, he’s afraid of his own shadow,” Oikawa announces, handing the horse off to a servant. “All you had to do was turn him around.” His message is clear. <em> You are all very, very dumb and I hope I humiliated you so much with my greatness that you cry. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Iwaizumi nods, impressed- he hadn’t noticed at all- and suppresses the smile rising to his lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Oikawa walks, he smirks and raises a hand towards Iwaizumi, who’s still carefully hidden. “I hope you enjoyed the show!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Oh, I swear to the gods, this piece of shit…  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Iwaizumi: Ew, what a shitty person.<br/>Also Iwaizumi: *stares at him for hours*</p>
<p>Hi! :D<br/>Okay, just so everyone knows, I am doing A LOT of research and definitely keeping in mind the true historical events. This was a real event; the characters either really existed or are based off of real people. (Yes, even Bucephalus.) However, I am embellishing things for the sake of the story. (Plus, this is fanfiction.) Hephaestion didn't actually meet Alexander here. They met about later, when they studied under Aristotle together. That said, if you notice anything inaccurate or just have some interesting information or obscure events, I'd love to know, because I'm definitely not an expert.</p>
<p>As per usual, thanks for reading! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Numinous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Numinous (adj.) - describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted- the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired</p><p>Oikawa worries about the consequences of all his ambitions and Iwaizumi wonders where his place truly is.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a reminder that I switched up some ages because ✨history✨ So, Daichi is an adult (and representing Antipater, by the way,) while Oikawa and Iwaizumi are still the same age, only a few months apart like in the show.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>339 BCE Pella, Macedon (5 years later)</b>
</p><p>Oikawa sits at the head of the round table, his generals spread out at either side, desperately  resisting the urge to go feral and throw his chair. Instead, he grits out a sensible statement. “The Thracians are approaching our Northeast border, and sitting around waiting for them to reach the city isn’t a favorable option.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sending an army to meet them there would be too risky. If it fails, they’ll be upon a ruler-less kingdom and we’ll be divided,” the man directly across from Oikawa argues, never mind that this has been repeated in tweaked wordings for hours now.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Ruler-less.” </em> He knows the implication is deliberate and sharp, but Oikawa can’t help but inwardly flinch. <em> What am I then? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Ah, what a disappointment you’ll be to your dear Phillip, then.” He laments mockingly with a bitter sigh, leaning back in his chair and raising an arm to the sky. Eight pairs of irked expressions flit back to him, and Oikawa quickly turns serious, back snapping straight. “They’ll be upon us either way. The better option is to counter as soon as possible.” </p><p> </p><p>He’s lost count of how many times he’s emphasized this, only for them to look straight through him as if he hadn’t said a word, continuing on with other preparations. All except Daichi, thankfully, who gives a pointed look to the other generals. “We’ve got one of the best armies in the world. If you’re suggesting that your soldiers can’t shut down a minor attack, mine are gladly capable of going instead.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, thank Zeus, someone here has a brain. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Scowls spread across the room, but Oikawa lights up with satisfaction. “That’s right. The Maedi are only a part of the Thracian people- they won’t gather a large enough force to be too much more than an irritation.”</p><p> </p><p>A sudden vision seizes him, zealous and bold, fueled by months of simmering fury. It's breathtaking, almost, sends his heart racing at the very thought: the first pivotal idea in a towering stack of glorious ambitions. “I’ll go. I can lead.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence takes the room, awed stares and disbelief. Oikawa can’t help but take pride in it. <em> They’re looking now. </em></p><p> </p><p>Then the man two seats to his left scoffs, slaps the table in laughter- the final push. “Wise words for a child who’s never seen a battlefield.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa seethes, grinding his teeth together, and his gaze falls upon the general, sparkling like ice- biting cold, cruel, yet smiling. “And wise words for someone who won’t be holding his military position for far longer. A <em> child </em> would have twice the sense as you. It’s shameful, really.” </p><p> </p><p>The man glowers, turning a vivid red and raising a trembling fist, but Daichi interjects with a calming hand, perhaps also in preparation to swat away Oikawa’s hands, which are hidden under the table, maliciously itching to choke the general to death.</p><p> </p><p>A pair of generals placed diagonal from him are far more thoughtful. “Seventeen… It’s the best time to get some experience under your belt. This must be an opportunity in disguise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” the second agrees with a twinkling smile- <em> too bright, </em> Oikawa thinks, <em> for someone who has purposely insulted everything I’ve said for the past year </em>. “In that case, we should begin planning.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s eyes narrow, taking in the men meticulously, suspicious, but then he sighs. At least this was finally going somewhere.</p><p> </p><p>____ ____ ____</p><p> </p><p>“They’re doing this because you’re easier to handle than Phillip, you know,” Daichi states later, once the meeting is adjourned. The two of them walk side by side, strolling through the halls.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Handle</em>,” Oikawa hisses viciously, throwing his hands up. “Like some dog?!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, not-”</p><p> </p><p>“They’ve been treating me like absolute filth for months, and apparently I’m the one who’s not thinking straight!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re barely seventeen- they won’t be happy to serve under someone so much younger, especially when the regency would’ve fallen to one of them otherwise.” </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa examines the older man skeptically, raising an  eyebrow. “And you?”</p><p> </p><p>Daichi smiles easily. “I serve Macedonia; the royal family. I’ve fought with Phillip and I’ll fight with you as well.”</p><p> </p><p>After painstakingly searching for any sign of  deceit, Oikawa reluctantly nods. “Thank you.” </p><p> </p><p>A moment passes. “Some men have been wormed their way far too close to the king. Be wary. Just as many here are untrustworthy as are reliable,” Daichi’s low voice carries through the corridors. “You should know that they’re praying for your failure in battle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Figures.” Oikawa combs a hand through his hair and gazes up at the ceiling, contemplating the facts. The realization crashes into him like a tsunami, his heart sinking, frozen, no matter how much he tries to deny anyone such power over him. Discreetly relaxing his shoulders, Oikawa sends Daichi a sideways smirk, tilting his head.  “Fortunately, I pride myself on being a major inconvenience to everyone else’s plans.”</p><p> </p><p>Unsurprised, Daichi chuckles. “...You’re a lot more like Phillip than I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa nods. “My father, sadly, is also usually a major inconvenience to my plans.”</p><p> </p><p>“A family trait,” Daichi agrees, laughing. “Just not the one I was thinking of.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” Oikawa glances at him from the corner of his eye, curious.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you ever tried talking Phillip out of a battle?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “It’s not my place. He’d have my head.”</p><p> </p><p>“You aren’t much different. Stubborn as hell” -Oikawa glares- “but it proves useful when you’re a visionary.”</p><p> </p><p> “I’m not quite sure if this is meant to be flattery, but if it is, please keep it going.”</p><p> </p><p>“That ego, on the other hand, is one of a kind,” Daichi shoots him a disapproving look, although it quickly dissipates. “All I’m saying is to be careful.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Oikawa sighs, thinking about  the words of his advisors these past months and the unsteady churning of his stomach. “I know. More than anything. But there’s no point in fearing failure.”</p><p> </p><p>"Spoken wisely," Daichi nods. “But I don’t just mean now. Make sure you always know who stands at your back.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Of course,”  Oikawa replies breathlessly, fighting off the strange tightness in his chest. “I… I’m gonna go now.”</p><p> </p><p>____ ____ ____</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi is lingering expectantly in the palace courtyard as usual. Oikawa wanders out, smiling brightly as he approaches, hoping it isn’t as transparent as he feels.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi quirks up an eyebrow. “Am I not getting an earful about the monstrosity that is your counsel of advisors today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, I can definitely still do that if you want. I know how much you absolutely <em> love </em>the sound of my voice.”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi scowls, flicking him. “I’m just concerned for the safety of my ears. They bleed every day from your constant yapping.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am a literal gift from the gods, I can’t understand why you hate me so.”</p><p> </p><p>“That. That is exactly why I hate you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, is Iwa-chan jealous?”</p><p> </p><p>“I- no, you piece of shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s illegal, y’know. You can’t just say things like that about Macedonian royalty.”</p><p> </p><p>“As I recall, it is also illegal to lie to Macedonian royalty.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms. “Why can’t you ever admit you like my company?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ‘cause I don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa swallows, face falling. “You don’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“It brings me immense pain to see you. I  come here daily to torture myself.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Kinky-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa, I swear to the gods.” Iwaizumi scowls at him, swatting at his shoulder, but Oikawa steps out of his reach effortlessly, laughing, the sound racketing through his aching chest. Pressing his lips together uncomfortably, a flicker of queasiness passes over his expression, but Oikawa jerks the corners of his mouth back up. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi stares flatly, having easily caught the falter. Oikawa resists the urge to squirm.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s heart stumbles. “Do what?”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi sighs, exasperated yet unable to conceal his concern. “What happened at the meeting?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, they agreed, and I decided to lead the battle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along?” Oikawa glances down, drearily noticing the dirt passes beneath their feet, smearing with each step. “Battle and glory and all that self-centered shit?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think they meant to give in all along…” He admits. Iwaizumi’s face crinkles in confusion. </p><p> </p><p>“Wh-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a goddamn pawn!” Oikawa thunders, throwing his head back and slamming his fist down on his thigh. “They meant for this to happen! For months! This entire fucking time!”</p><p> </p><p>The sinking feeling weighing him down suddenly seems to solidify, lacing around his throat and chest like chains, wrestling the air from his lungs. He wants to rip them apart with bare hands, go down kicking and screaming; he wants to melt the metal at the mercy of his smoldering fury, yearning for the scalding burns on his skin for marching straight into this cage with such foolhardy confidence.</p><p> </p><p>“So?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean ‘so’?!” Oikawa swings his arms through the air, his vision trembling. “They said I was too naïve and prideful and they were fucking right, because I’ve been fucking manipulated for a year and only just happened to realize now!”</p><p> </p><p>“You got what you wanted!” Iwaizumi seizes his shoulder, wrenching Oikawa around to face him. “Who gives a fuck what they’re doing? You wouldn't have rested until this happened eventually. Don’t let them treat you like a pawn, then. Let’s go and win like you said you would.”</p><p> </p><p>“ ‘Let’s?’ ” Oikawa breathes out, gawking at Iwaizumi, who shrugs, his hand falling back down to his side. <em> Let </em> <b> <em>us</em> </b> <em>?</em></p><p> </p><p>“What did you expect?” Iwaizumi isn't particularly entranced by the battlefield, but he's trained with sword and spear just as all boys have- his family is not close with the royal family for their alluring words. Still, Oikawa looks away, biting his lip, and Iwaizumi falters, hurt. “...What are you so afraid of?” </p><p> </p><p><em> Brush it off, just brush it off. </em> Resisting the urge to step back, Oikawa chuckles, his eyes shimmering as if to outshine the weight on his chest. “This is <em> my </em> kingdom, what would I be afraid of? This is for honor, for the greater good of Macedon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really now?” Iwaizumi’s emerald green eyes bore into him, cutting like glass; Oikawa is hollow and transparent against the challenge, but he faces it regardless.</p><p> </p><p>“I. Am. Not. Afraid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what are you so angry about?” </p><p> </p><p>The answer is so obvious, but Oikawa has not seen it yet. What is it that everyone is so unavoidably afraid of?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Death. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It is a foreign concept for them, seventeen, with visions of futures like promises, glory and action beckoning them forward. Death is not a worry when the world lies just beyond their fingertips, but for Oikawa it is an incessant reminder, it is the sword that never parts with his side and the guards that lie just beyond sight, standing vigilant at every corner. It is inevitable as the crown that encircles his head.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa sighs, turning his back to Iwaizumi, walking on ahead. He tilts his chin up to face the sun's strength.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you think the greatest kings die, Iwa-chan?” </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi sucks a harsh breath, his eyes widening. He regards him warily for a moment, trying to decipher the uncharacteristic lack of fire, the quiet acceptance- quiet defiance?- in Oikawa’s stance. “Old age? War? Is that it? Are you seriously chickening out about Thrace?!”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, you must’ve been listening in class sometimes,” Oikawa presses, if only to not have to answer himself, but Iwaizumi shakes his head solemnly.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Treason.” </p><p> </p><p>Lips softened with a small, shallow smile, eyes gleaming with muted amusement, Oikawa twists back around to look Iwaizumi in the eye, but his expression is still somehow far too intense- distant, in a very foreboding way; Iwaizumi shifts uncomfortably. Oikawa doesn’t quite understand it himself: these are facts and logic and should not send his stomach plummeting, his heart hammering. “They’re murdered; betrayed; backstabbed by their own men. I’d easily bet my father will go the same way.”</p><p> </p><p>The rising lilt of Oikawa’s voice does nothing to disguise the gravity of his words, as much as he wishes for it to.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Iwaizumi gulps as Oikawa faces forward again, hands on his hips. “I see.”</p><p> </p><p>He looks ahead at Oikawa’s back, wondering if he is exempt from this snaking anxiety, whether Oikawa glances back to reassure himself of Iwaizumi’s presence, or of his own safety. The Oikawa he met four years ago was a child, as was the one he spent three years cramped into classroom desks when studying under Aristotle together. There was no such fear, no hierarchy that separated them, only stolen laughter and giddy, juvenile pranks. He recalls the ebullience that seemed to burst from Oikawa’s stature, far too immense to be contained within a human body. Even at 16, when they returned to Pella for King Phillip II to entrust Oikawa with regency as he embarked to Byzantine, they were still children, Iwaizumi thinks, exhilarated by the prospect of such power. Perhaps, they still are.</p><p> </p><p>But there is a malevolent storm descending upon them now- boyhood bonds do not mix well with politics and war. They are built upon the banter and youthful fire that is stomped out in warfare, where the ultimate triumph is not decided by childish ideals like friendship but by bloodshed and skill, excruciating calculation and ruthless action. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa is at the center of it all- it is his birthright and destiny.</p><p> </p><p>So, if he worries, Iwaizumi knows it’s natural. Oikawa is right: power is as destructive and domineering as it is unstable. A single wrong move will send the entire kingdom tumbling. However, betrayal is the one thing that has never occurred to him- the very thing that will plague Oikawa for years to come. As much as he aches to reassure, to swear that he has nothing to worry for, Iwaizumi cannot. He’d never forgive himself for lowering the walls that keep Oikawa alive, no matter the kindness he intends. Such a life is not meant for them.</p><p> </p><p>Yet how it stings to be stranded outside those walls, to push Oikawa forward when it means to push him away.</p><p> </p><p>“All you can do is move forward now.” Iwaizumi may not yet know war personally, but he knows Oikawa, knows the way insecurity chains him and clouds his head. There is nothing changed now. It is the same fear that Iwaizumi has learned to pinpoint and tame in these five years- except that it no longer stems from childishness, but will prove lethal if it is not squashed. “Keep going without a doubt.”</p><p> </p><p> “Right… You’re right, this is what I wanted.” Oikawa releases a long, relieved breath. He turns, offering a genuine- albeit shaky- smile, eyes crinkling. “I guess I have nothing to worry about for now.”</p><p> </p><p>He chides himself for giving in, but Iwaizumi smiles back instinctively.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Like usual, thank you for reading! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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